Patty Blossom, Page 2

  CHAPTER II

  A STUDIO PARTY

  As Roger had predicted, the snow departed as quickly as it came, andtwo days after their sleigh ride there was scarcely a vestige of whiteon the ground. Tennis was again possible and a great game was inprogress on the court at Pine Laurel. Patty and Roger were playingagainst Elise and Sam Blaney, and the pairs were well matched.

  But the long-contested victory finally went against Patty, and shelaughingly accepted defeat.

  "Only because Patty's not quite back on her game yet," Roger defended;"this child has been on the sick list, you know, Sam, and she isn't upto her own mark."

  "Well, I like that!" cried Patty; "suppose you bear half the blame,Roger. You see, Mr. Blaney, he is so absorbed in his own Love Game, hecan't play with his old-time skill."

  "All right, Patsy, let it go at that. And it's so, too. I suddenlyremembered something Mona told me to tell you, and it affected myservice."

  "What is it?" asked Elise. "Anything of importance?"

  "Yes; it's this: Mona has decided to sell Red Chimneys, and Philip VanReypen thinks it a good plan to buy it for the Children's Home."

  "For gracious' sake!" exclaimed Patty. "That _is_ news! Why doesn'tPhil tell me about it?"

  "That's just it. He's coming down here tomorrow to talk it over withyou. Mona's coming too, you know, and you can all have a powwow."

  "All right," and Patty wagged her head, sagaciously. "It's not a badidea at all. I knew Mr. Galbraith was thinking of selling the SpringBeach place, and it would be a fine house for the kiddies."

  "And are you running a Children's Home?" asked Sam Blaney, as they allstrolled back to the house, and paused on the wide veranda.

  "Too cool for you out here, Patty?" asked Elise.

  "Not a bit of it. I love the outdoors. Somebody find me a sweater anda rug, and I'll be as happy as a clam."

  Roger brought a red silk sweater from the hall, and a big, soft steamerrug, and proceeded to tuck Patty up, snugly.

  "Yes," she said, turning to Blaney, and answering his inquiry, "I amsupposed to be organising a Children's Home, but all the hard work isdone for me, and I only say yes or no, to easy questions. You see, adear old friend of mine left me a sum of money for the purpose, and Iwant to prove a trustworthy steward. But we're not going to doanything definite until Spring, unless, as Red Chimneys is in themarket, it seems advisable to secure it while we can."

  "Goodness, Patty," said Elise; "you talk like a Board of Managers!"

  "That's what I am; or, rather, I'm Manager of the Board. Is Philipcoming tonight, Roger?"

  "Yes, he'll be here for dinner. And Mona, too. I say, Blaney, we'llbring 'em along to your party, eh?"

  "Of course. Alla will be delighted to have them. No matter if we'recrowded. You see, Miss Fairfield, our place is small, but our welcomeis vurry, vurry large----" Blaney waved his long arms, as if includingthe whole world in his capacious welcome.

  "You're vurry, vurry kind," returned Patty, unconsciously imitating hispeculiar pronunciation. "I'm just crazy to see your studio. It seemedas if the time would never come. And I want to meet your sister, too.I know it will be a lovely party. I've never been to a real BohemianStudio party."

  "Oh, we don't call it Bohemian, because, you see, it _is_ Bohemian.Only make-believe Bohemians call themselves so. You'll learn todistinguish the difference."

  "I hope so. I've always wanted to know what Bohemianism really is."

  "We'll show you tonight. What are you going to wear?"

  "My goodness, I don't know. I hadn't thought about it. Also, I'venever been asked a question like that before."

  "Ah, but it means so much! If your gown should be out of key----"Blaney rolled up his eyes and spread his hands, as if the thought weretoo appalling for words.

  Patty giggled. "I hope it won't be," she said. "But, tell me, what isthe key? Maybe I can strike it."

  "The key," and the poet looked thoughtful, "ah, yes, I have it! Thekey will be saffron and ultramarine."

  Patty gasped. "Oh, I haven't a frock to my name in those colours!"

  "But you can harmonise,--yes, harmonise. You will, won't you? If youdidn't, I couldn't bear it."

  "Oh, then I'll harmonise, yes, I promise you I will. I'll findsomething that won't make a discord. But can you dictate to all yourguests like this?"

  "Alas, no! Would that I might! And now I must go. Alla will bewanting me."

  "What is he, anyway?" said Patty, as after his adieux, the poet swungaway, with his queer, loping gait.

  "Bats in his belfry," returned Roger, laughing. "He's the real thingin high-art souls,--if you get what I mean."

  "Oh, I don't know," demurred Patty; "I think he's sincere."

  "You do! Well, he may be, for all of me. But if he is, give me basedeception, every time! Don't you fall in love with him, Patty, VanReypen wouldn't stand for it."

  "I don't know what Mr. Van Reypen has to say about it," returned Patty,with a heightened colour. "And remember, Roger, not everybody is soabsorbed in loving and being loved as you are!"

  Patty's roguish smile was affectionate as well, for she was fond ofRoger, and also of Mona, and she was deeply interested in their loveaffair. Their engagement had been a short one, and now that thewedding day was so near, the whole Farrington family could think ortalk of little else. And as a house guest and a dear friend, Patty,too, was enthusiastic and excited about the preparations.

  And then Roger went off to the train to meet Mona, and Philip, who camedown at the same time, and Elise disappeared and Patty sat alone, inthe falling dusk, snugly tucked in her rugs, and feeling very lazy andcomfortable and happy.

  Her thoughts drifted idly from one subject to another, and presentlyshe heard a step beside her, and felt her hand taken in somebody's warmclasp.

  "Philip!" she cried, starting up.

  "Yes, my girl, and so glad to see you again. How are you?"

  "Fine. This splendid air and luxurious living has made me all wellagain."

  "That's good. But it's too late for you to be out here. Come on inthe house."

  "Yes, I will. Did Mona come?"

  "Yes, we came down together. How that girl is improving!"

  "What do you mean? She always was a fine character."

  "Yes, but she has so much more--er--sweetness and light."

  "That's so. I've noticed it ever since she's been engaged."

  "Well, don't you put on any more sweetness and light when you getengaged. I simply couldn't stand it! You're chock-a-block full of itnow!"

  "Don't worry. Besides, I've no intention of being engaged. What's theuse, if I'm sweet and light enough now?"

  "You're going to announce your engagement in just fifteen days fromnow, my lady. Why, that will be Farrington's wedding day! By Jove,what an idea! We'll announce it at their wedding!"

  "We'll do nothing of the sort. You take too much for granted."

  "Well, you promised----"

  "I know what I promised. But the fifteenth is a long way off yet."

  "That may be, but it's bound to get here. Come in the house now. It'stoo damp for you out here."

  They went in, and found Mona and Elise chattering like two magpies,with Roger trying to get in a word edgeways.

  "Hello, Patty," cried Mona, springing up to greet her. "My, how fineyou're looking! Lakewood agrees with you all right. And Patty, thebridesmaids _are_ going to sing, after all. Will you be home in timefor one or two rehearsals?"

  "Yes, indeed. I'll come up whenever you want me, Mona."

  "Good girl. Now I must go and dress for dinner. I'd no idea we'd gethere so late; and Roger says there's a party on for tonight."

  "Yes," laughed Patty; "and it's a party you have to get keyed up to,--Imean your gown."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "Come along and I'll tell you."

  The two girls went off together, and half an hour later Elise foundthem in Patty's
room, still talking and no beginning made in the matterof dressing.

  But later, when the young people left the house to go to the Studioparty, they were resplendent of costume. Patty had told the othergirls what Mr. Blaney had said, and though they scoffed at it, theyagreed not to wear anything that might be too desperately inharmonious.

  Mona was in white, declaring that that could offend nobody. Elise worepale yellow, for the same logical reason. Patty had on a gown of softchiffon, of old-gold colour, which, she said, was the nearest tosaffron she had ever had or ever hoped to have.

  "I don't like the word saffron," she declared; "somehow it makes methink of camomile tea."

  "Naturally," said Roger; "I believe they're both yarbs. Blaney mightcall this affair a Saffron Tea, and have done with it."

  But the gown was most becoming to Patty. The dull old-gold tints setsoff her fair skin, and her bright gold hair, piled high, was toppedwith a gold and amber comb. Round her throat was an old-fashionednecklace of topazes, lent her by Mrs. Farrington. Altogether, shelooked, Philip declared, positively Burne-Jonesey, and he called herthe Blessed Damosel.

  When at last they entered the Studio of the Blaney brother and sister,Patty blinked several times, before she could collect her senses. Itwas very dimly lighted, and a strange, almost stifling sense ofoppression came over her. This was caused by the burning of variousincense sticks and pastilles which gave out a sweet, spicy odour, andwhich made a slight haze of smoke. Becoming a little accustomed to thegloom, Patty discerned her host, amazingly garbed in an Orientalburnoose and a voluminous silk turban. He took her hand, made a deepsalaam, and kissed her finger-tips with exaggerated ceremony.

  "My sister, Alla," he said, "Miss Fairfield."

  Patty looked up to see a tall, gaunt woman smiling at her. MissBlaney, like her brother, was long, lanky and loose-jointed, and seemedto desire to accentuate these effects. Her ash-coloured hair wasparted and drawn loosely down to a huge knot at the back of her neck.A band of gilt filigree was round her head at the temples, and was setwith a huge green stone which rested in the middle of her forehead.Long barbaric earrings dangled and shook with every movement of herhead, and round her somewhat scrawny neck was coiled an ugly greenishserpent of some flexible metal formation. For the rest, Miss Blaneywore a flowing robe of saffron yellow, a most sickly shade, and thematerial was frayed and worn as if it had been many times made over.It hung from her shoulders in billowy folds, and the wearer wasevidently proud of it, for she continually switched its draperies aboutand gazed admiringly at them.

  "Frightfully glad to see you," this weird creature was saying, andPatty caught her breath, and murmured, "Oh, thank you. So kind of youto ask me."

  "I feel sure I shall adore you," Miss Blaney went on; "you are_simpatica_,--yes, absolutely _simpatica_."

  "Am I?" and Patty smiled. "And is it nice to be _simpatica_? Itdoesn't mean a simpleton, does it?"

  "Oh, how droll! My dear, how droll!" and Miss Blaney went off incontortions of silent laughter. "Just for that, you must call me Alla.I always want droll people to call me by my first name. And your nameis----"

  "Patty."

  "Impossible! You can't be named that! Incredible! _Ooh_!"

  Alla ended with a half-breathed shriek.

  "Oh, well," said Patty, hastily, "my name is really Patricia, though noone ever calls me that."

  "I shall call you that. Patricia! Perfect! You couldn't have beenbetter dubbed. No, not possibly better dubbed. Patricia, ah,Patricia!"

  Patty edged away a little. She began to think her hostess was crazy.But Alla went on:

  "And my brother, Patricia, do you not adore him?"

  "Well, you see, I've only seen him a few times. I can't quite agreethat I adore him, yet."

  "But you will. As soon as you have heard his poems, you will put himon a pedestal, yes, on a high pedestal. And tonight you will hear himread his wonderful lines. What a treat you have in store!"

  And then new arrivals claimed Miss Blaney's attention, and Patty turnedaside. She found Philip waiting for her, his eyes dancing withamusement.

  "What is it all?" he whispered; "a bear garden?"

  "Hush, Phil, don't make me laugh. Did you ever see anything like it?"

  "Well, I've been to Studio jinks, but they were to this as moonlightunto sunlight and as water unto wine! Shall I take you home?"

  "No, indeed! I want to see the fun. I've never been to a Studiojinks,--or whatever you call it, and I want to live and learn."

  "All right, Patty. You shall stay as long as you like, but I'll wagerthat inside of an hour you'll be begging me to get you out of it."

  "All right, if I do, I shall expect you to take me away. Let's look atthe room."

  They sauntered about, and finally sat down on a Turkish divan, whichproved much lower than they had anticipated.

  "What an uncomfortable thing!" said Patty, "but sit here a minute,while I look round."

  From the ceiling hung Moorish-looking lamps, which gave almost nolight, and, were of rather dilapidated appearance. The furniture, too,was not only antique, but wabbly-legged and here and there tied up withstrings or leather thongs. Statuettes were about, broken and dusty;jugs and bowls of dull brass and copper; rickety screens; enormousunframed photographs, warped and faded, but bearing splashing andunintelligible autographs; and draperies of all sorts, from old shawlsto tattered ecclesiastical robes.

  "I see what Mr. Blaney meant by the key of saffron," said Patty,sagely. "Everything is that colour because of the accumulation of dustand dirt! I don't believe this place has ever had a goodhouse-cleaning!"

  "Oh, Patty, my dear child! Don't thus expose your ignorance! Bohemianever cleans house! The very thought is sacrilege!"

  "Why is it? Some of this old brass stuff would be lovely if it werecleaned up. And look at that copper kettle! It's positively blue!"

  "But that's what they want, dear," said Van Reypen, smiling at her."Howsumever, I'm glad you don't like it. We won't model our home on aBohemian plan."

  "And look at the people," went on Patty, in an awe-struck whisper."Some of them are decent, like our crowd,--but look at that girl inorange!"

  The girl in question wore a costume of flame-coloured woolen materialthat was indeed striking. Her black hair was in two long braids, andshe was carrying a small musical instrument that Philip said was azithern.

  "I don't know," he went on, "but I fancy she will play a sort ofaccompaniment to our host's poems. They generally work it that way."

  "Stop making fun, Phil," reproved Patty; "perhaps the poems will belovely,--with musical setting."

  "Perhaps," said Philip.